


Downpour

by chiliscale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26820544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiliscale/pseuds/chiliscale
Summary: A little bit of first kiss fluff to fight all those the-end-is-here feelings.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 126





	Downpour

They don´t make it to the car in time.

Thunder cracks in the distance, bright lightning flashes across the sky, and then the clouds break, rain coming down on them in a heavy pour. They´re soaked in mere seconds.

“Fucking asshole!” Dean screams to the heavens, complete with an outraged shake of his fist, the tips of his ears going red with anger, and suddenly Sam can no longer help himself. He starts to laugh.

It´s not a normal laugh, either. Sam is nearly doubling over with it, his whole body shaking with mirth, tears mixing with the rainwater on his face.

Looking at Dean only makes things worse. His brother looks like a disgruntled porcupine, wet strands of hair sticking out in every which direction, eyebrows drawn together into a scowl that clearly conveys Dean´s displeasure.

Dean is staring at him as if he´s finally gone insane, and well, maybe Sam has. He also finds that he can no longer be bothered to care anymore. They´re screwed anyway, aren´t they? If Sam´s going to die for good this time, he´ll damn well make his remaining days count.

The corners of Dean´s mouth are slowly but surely quirking up, a spark of amusement lightning in his eyes despite himself, and then he´s laughing, too, a quiet chuckle that soon turns into the same maniac full-body-laugh that is already rattling Sam.

Together, they stumble through the rain like a pair of drunken fools, Sam´s arm slung over Dean´s shoulder in a futile attempt to steady himself. It takes them twice as long as it normally would, but somehow, they still make it to the car.

Dean has to try three times until he finally manages to unlock the Impala, and they fall onto the backseat in an uncoordinated heap, Dean half atop of Sam, his right arm behind Sam´s back.

They´re still giggling like school kids, can´t even make eye contact without bursting into a new fit of laughter.

“You finally lost it, man.” Dean says after a few long minutes of carefully controlled breathing. “You´re fucking nuts, Sammy. Bat shit crazy. Got yourself hexed again, did you?”

“Nah,” Sam says easily, arranging his legs into a more comfortable position. “I guess I just needed a good laugh, is all.”

Dean nods, like what Sam said makes even a lick of sense. “Yeah," he says, "me too,” and smiles at Sam, all soft and affectionate, eyes open and unguarded. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Dean´s a fucking mess, they both are. They´re soaking wet, shirts and jeans plastered to their bodies, a smudge of dirt high on Dean´s left cheekbone, hair dripping rainwater all over his face. Sam's never seen anything more gorgeous.

Sam´s cold, now that he has time to think about it, the interior of the car only slightly warmer than the outside. They should turn on the heat before one of them catches hypothermia or something worse. The last thing they need right now is a fucking cold on top of everything else.

He´ll move, Sam decides. Just one more second. He´ll get up, grab some towels and a blanket from the trunk. Get Dean to dry himself off, drive them home. Take a hot shower. Heat up some soup. Any minute now. Right after he´s done looking at his brother.

“We should move.” Dean says, echoing Sam´s thoughts, hand twitching as if he´s reaching for the door, and suddenly, Sam´s running out of time.

He doesn´t think. It´s all instinct that has him lean down, has him lean in, and carefully, hesitantly, kiss the rainwater off of Dean´s lips.

The kiss is over before the reality of it even registers, and all Sam can do is stare, his lips prickling with the phantom feeling of Dean´s mouth against his.

Dean sits frozen, stunned. Surprise in every line of his face.

“Sammy.” He says, and Sam inches closer, bolder this time, his hand coming up to rest on Dean´s hip, fingertips ghosting over a patch of naked skin where Dean´s shirt has ridden up.

“This okay?” Sam asks, surprised at how calm his voice sounds even though his heart is nearly bursting out of his chest.

“Fucking hell, Sam.” Dean answers hoarsely, half reproach, half benediction, and then his hands are cradling Sam´s face, fingers curling up behind Sam´s ears, and pulling him down into another kiss, deeper this time.

It takes them a bit the find the right angle, to set the right pace, but then Dean´s tongue is in Sam´s mouth and Sam´s hand is in Dean´s hair, and neither of them can bring themselves to care about the cold anymore.

Their position is far from ideal, cramped up in the backseat as they are, knees and elbows knocking into each other whenever one of them tries to move.

“Dean, c´mon.” Sam breaths, fingers curling around his brother´s hip, digging bone-deep, and Dean makes a gorgeous sound, hurt and hungry all at once, and pushes Sam back against the leather seats, climbs right into his lab, thighs spread wide on either side of Sam´s.

His hands are on Sam´s belt before Sam´s brain has caught up with their new position, and then Dean´s hand closes around Sam´s dick, and Sam doesn´t think anymore.

He´s distantly aware that he´s rambling, _please_ , and _Dean_ , and _fuck_ , while Dean´s working them both, mouth wide open as Sam tries to breathe and moan at the same time, the sharp scratch of Dean´s teeth against his throat pulling him over the edge in an embarrassingly short time.

“Sammy.” Is the last thing Dean says before he comes, too, eyes screwed shut, fingers tangled in Sam´s hair.

Sam´s legs are starting to fall asleep by the time either of them moves again. In contrast, his mind is racing, analyzing each word, each touch, each kiss. What if Dean´s already regretting this? What if he only went along because he thought Sam needed it? What if -

“Dude.” Dean says, right before Sam manages to talk himself into a full-blown panic, Big Brother in every syllable. “You´re dripping all over my seats. You gonna clean that up?”

And just like that, Sam can breathe again.

“You might wanna get me a towel, then,” he says, leans up and kisses the smile right off Dean´s stupid face,


End file.
